The End of the Line
by Thnx4theGum
Summary: A 4-part story in 5 chapters exploring- what else?- how our favorite couple just might get it together some day. It might not be as easy as you'd think but there will be fluff along the way. Rated T just in case.
1. The End

**Hello! I'll get back to "Blue Eyes" tomorrow, but for now, here's a four-parter for you to enjoy. And if you like it, leave a review for me :)**

**Enjoy!**

**Gum :)**

* * *

**The End of the Line**

Part 1: _The End_

In retrospect it always seemed like it should have started some other way- perhaps with a horrific child abuse case or the passing of Max or Hank- but it didn't. Instead, it began like a hundred other nights; with a man and a woman and a diner.

"So," he reviewed the paper in front of him, "Cam's bringing the mashed potatoes and carrots-"

"Cooked carrots," she corrected automatically.

"Same thing," he shrugged, opening his mouth to continue.

"No," she shook her head insistently. "A carrot's nutritional properties are altered by the cooking process."

"Thank you, Professor Bones," his voice dripped with so much sarcasm even she could pick up on it.

"You're welcome," she picked up on it, but chose to respond smugly instead, reaching well over to his side of the table to snatch up a fry that lay in a basket between them.

"Anyway," he returned his eyes to the list, "Cam's doing that, Angela's covering the bread angle, Hodgins signed up for green bean casserole, and Sweets," he chuckled to himself, "is bringing sweet potatoes."

"That's no more humorous now than when you assigned it to him," she rolled her eyes.

"Aw, come on," he turned up the smile wattage, "I saw you giggling the first time."

"I was not!"

It was his turn for an eye roll, "You and Angela were giggling like little girls. Putting your hands over your mouths didn't stop your shoulders from shaking."

Suddenly her cheeks pinked ever-so-slightly and she became entranced with her lukewarm mug of coffee.

"What are Max and Russ bringing?" he asked, even though the list was right in front of him.

"Stuffing and cranberries that Amy jellied herself," she answered, embarrassment fleeing. "My father's stuffing is excellent."

"Yeah, well, so is Pops' pumpkin pie," he bragged. "I know you don't like your fruit cooked, Bones, but you've gotta try some of it!"

"Technically," she said slowly, "pumpkins are vegetables."

"So you're having pie?!" he looked shocked.

"A small piece to commemorate the holiday, yes," she nodded, then scowled when his stunned expression remained. "I'm not completely backwards in my observances of cultural festivities, Booth. And you should know my mother baked very good pumpkin pie from scratch as well."

"Yeah, well," he turned the conversation before she could get really mad at him, "you're still gonna have to bring the fake turkey if you want it."

"Tofurkey," she supplied the correct word.

"Whatever. You're still cooking it _and_ taking home the leftovers when nobody but you eats it." He smirked, "I, on the other hand, will make the turkey. Oh, and don't forget the mac 'n' cheese, Bones."

"As if you and Parker would allow me to," she intoned drily.

"Can't help it if the boy has good taste," his eyes sparkled with pride.

Inventory reviewed, they discussed what time he would pick her up at her apartment the next morning to do their shopping. He teased her about not having naked men running around when he arrived and she came back with a rejoinder recalling that she had once endured Tessa answering his door in little more than his dress shirt, so they were even on that count. They split the check down the middle and stood to leave.

The silence was almost awkward when they realized that she had driven over from a karate class so he would not be dropping her off at her apartment per their usual arrangement. She was attempting to compose an appropriate farewell when he impulsively took her hand and led her outside. She shivered in the crisp air and found she didn't object at all when her hand remained encased in his warmer one. Seconds later, they were beside her car.

"Well, uh, I'll see you tomorrow, Bones," he smiled, his large frame effectively blocking the coolness of the night air.

"Good night, Booth," she offered a genuine smile in return.

Neither one of them was ever sure who moved first, but either way their lips met in the middle. What started as an involuntary peck deepened rapidly to something that was very voluntary and involved tongues that sparred just as well this way as they did verbally. When they parted several flotillas later, both sported dilated pupils and heaving chests.

Shyly, she slid the hand that had become entangled in his hair down to his face, cupping his jaw in a way that was both intimate, yet familiarly comfortable. Similarly, his hand traveled from her hip to tuck away an errant lock of hair that had fallen between them and came to rest in the crook of her neck. A horn blared on the street behind them, bringing reality crashing back around them.

Muttering something too low for him to pick up, she drew away from him, slipped into her car, and was easing into traffic before he realized what was happening. Whatever it was, he thought, things would never be the same again.


	2. The Fallout

_The Fallout_

The problem with kissing your best friend and confidant is that you then eliminate the one person who could help you navigate objectively through the resulting emotional tsunami. The secondary problem- as Temperance saw it- was that she already knew exactly what her remaining confidant would advise her to do to and with Booth and she found that it simply was not the advice she was seeking at the moment.

Even though it was well before when she usually went to bed, she changed into her pajamas and curled underneath the covers. There were so many confusing aspects surrounding what had taken place; questions that she had that she could not answer on her own as well as emotions that she was unfamiliar with processing. After an hour of tossing and turning without getting any closer to falling asleep a possible solution occurred to her and she left her bed.

"Hey," the voice on the other end answered on the third ring sounding just as alert as she was.

"I didn't wake you up did I?"

"Nah, I'm good," he replied casually.

"Good," she nodded and cleared her throat. "Booth, I need to talk-"

"How about I come over?" he suggested. "Or you could come here?"

"No," she responded more sharply than she meant to. "I mean, no thank you. I need to ask you a question and will require an honest answer from you."

"Ask away," he invited, suppressing a chuckle.

"I find that after the events which unfolded tonight, I am in need of some advice," she hesitated for a fraction of a second but he said nothing so she forged ahead. "Under normal circumstances I would consult you on these matters, however, I fear that your objectivity may have been compromised in this instance. Angela would be my second choice, but her feelings on this topic have been clear for quite some time and at this juncture would not be constructive."

"What do you need me to do, Bones?" he asked, turning the Flyers' game off so that he could fully concentrate.

"If you believe it would be possible, I need you to divorce yourself from your role in tonight's happenings and speak to me strictly as a friend," the words tumbled out of her.

"A friend," he repeated.

She nodded her head, "Albeit one is willing to cover slightly different topics than normal."

"We talk about everything, Bones."

"No," she shook her head, "we do not. That's not to say that we don't talk about a vast number of things, however, past experience dictates that when it comes to issues surrounding our personal relationship we don't talk. In fact, we barely even acknowledge that any relationship outside of our professional one exists. To eliminate that discomfort, I am suggesting that we talk as if you are not the other party involved. If that seems impossible for you I will understand."

"So you'll ask questions and we'll pretend like you're talking about a different guy?" he clarified, still hazy on exactly what she wanted from him.

"Precisely," she nodded. "Will this be acceptable to you?"

"I'm all ears," he smiled into the phone, then spoke casually, "So, Bones, how was your day? Do anything different?"

A small laugh escaped her, but the shift set her at ease, "As a matter of fact it was a good day. At least, it ended well; the rest of the day didn't deviate from its normal course."

There was a small silence and neither one of them was sure what should come next.

"I kissed a man today," she admitted softly, feeling slightly ridiculous at her shyness as Booth obviously knew what had taken place.

"Was it a good one?" he teased.

"Booth!"

"Sorry," he said even though they both knew he wasn't. "Um, how'd it make you feel?"

"I'm not entirely certain," she answered honestly. "To a degree there was a certain inevitability about the whole scenario."

"What do you mean?" there was no anger in the question, just curiosity.

"He and I work long hours together under stressful conditions and almost daily rely on one enough for safety…" she trailed off.

"So sooner or later you were bound to let loose on each other," it was a statement rather than a question.

"Yes," she nodded, "though I admit I would have expected it to come during a slightly more stressful moment."

"Did you like it?" this time he did not sound flirtatious.

"I did," her cheeks blushed at the admission, "and I'm fairly certain he did as well. The conundrum, though, is not what was felt but rather how next to proceed."

"Better book the church now," he grinned.

"Booth!"

"And start picking out your favorite baby names," he continued.

"Stop it!"

"Should probably tell Angela too," he was laughing. "You know she'll want to plan every detail."

"This," she fumed, "is why I didn't want to consult with you!"

"Listen to yourself, Bones," he sobered, but kept his tone light. "If this had happened with any other guy, what would you do?" She was quiet, so he prodded, "Come on, you're Dr. Temperance Brennan, one of the most self-assured people I've ever met. You share a great kiss with a great guy and what do you do?"

"Sleep with them," she said automatically, "or invite them to a pre-arranged social event."

"A date."

"In the vernacular, yes," she agreed.

"So why not this time?" he wasn't sure he knew the answer.

"Because," was all she said.

"I'm gonna need more to work with than that," he frowned. "Is the idea of a date with me _that_ bad?"

"Of course not!" she exclaimed. "You're the one who sets conditions on our relationship."

"Me?" It was his turn to be incredulous.

"Yes, you," she stood to her feet and began pacing. "You give out your pithy truisms designed to help me understand love and other relational matters, yet outside of tonight you don't act on your words, leaving me to conclude that while you want what is is best for me, you don't want _me_."

"Not want you?" he couldn't believe it. "How could you think I don't want you?"

"Booth, I am not naïve," she released a long breath. "Through your actions, and most especially with your words, you've made it painfully clear to me that your affection for me is professional. After the Howard Epps case I knew that you were not just speaking about your relationship with Cam; that the line you enacted was meant for the two of us."

"Bones-" he started and she cut him off.

"You never once asked me what it was like when I thought you were dead for two weeks," she accused. "Never considered that it was the most excruciatingly painful experience I've had since I was fifteen. Just like you never said anything more to me after we kissed for Caroline Julian, and you never asked me why, when you were comatose, I felt it necessary to construct a work of fiction in which we were married and expecting a child _and_ read it out loud to you. Someone who _cared_ in the romantic sense of the word – who _wanted _me- would have asked," she paused. "You taught me that, Booth."

Silence met her when she stopped, leaving her to wonder if he'd hung up on her.

"Go out with me tomorrow," he said finally. "On a real date."

"Tomorrow's Thanksgiving," she pointed out, "and we have a party to prepare for."

"Then we'll get breakfast before we go shopping," he amended.

"Weren't we planning on doing that already?" she questioned.

"Coffee and donuts, sure, but I'm talking about a real restaurant."

"Not the diner?"

"Nope."

"Then where?" she was curious.

"You'll find out tomorrow," he hedged, not having a blessed clue as to where they could go outside of the diner.

"Only if I accept," she told him.

"Are you, or are you not the same woman who just reamed me out for being all talk and no play?" the woman was going to drive him over the edge one of these days.

"Fine," she shot back, responding to the challenge in his voice, "I accept."

"Good."

"Yes."

"I'll be there at seven," he said.

"I'll be ready," she assured him.

"Goodnight, Bones."

* * *

**Next up, Part 3: The Act**

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**Gum :)**


	3. The Act

_**The Act**_

Any one of the squints that he worked with could have explained to him that spontaneous change in a given system is inevitable and can be explained within the context of entropy. Of course, they could also have given him a headache exploring all of the nuances and applications of entropy in the scientific world alone and he would have wanted to shoot them. Standing nervously outside of her door early Thanksgiving morning with the express purpose of taking her on a date he just prayed that whatever change came wouldn't obliterate everything they had worked toward over the past four and a half years.

"Come on in," she welcomed him with a shy smile when he finally knocked.

He did and they faced each other, neither sure what to say.

"What do you have?" she asked, pointing suspiciously to his arms, which were behind his back.

"Well, these are daffodils and daisies," he pulled out the small bouquet with a smile.

She smiled back and accepted them, then set them in a vase of water.

"I suppose you have Jupiter hidden back there as well?" she asked when she had finished.

"Even better. Close your eyes," he instructed.

"Why?" she challenged.

"Because it's a surprise," he tried a charm smile.

"I dislike surprises," she frowned, standing up on her tiptoes to sneak a peek.

"You'll like this one," he assured her, keeping his hands out of view, "now stop acting like Parker on Christmas and close your eyes."

She did with a little pout, "You know, none of my _other_ dates have been so cruel."

He chuckled, but said nothing, taking her hands gently and opening them before placing his second gift in them.

"Open up," he told her, stepping back to see her reaction.

Puzzled eyes roved over the object, then a smile blossomed as understanding dawned.

"How did you get this? It doesn't-"

"Come out 'til January?" he quirked his lips and nodded. "Yeah, I know."

"But how-"

"_Special_ Agent Seeley Booth, Bones, remember?" he grinned. "It's not every day you make the cover of the world's premiere forensic journal. Well, you and Daisy, but Sweets'll have to get his own copy."

Reverently, she traced the cover. The picture of she and Daisy and Anok had been taken the night the exhibit had opened and she looked gorgeous; though he could tell that she was hiding her fatigue and her smile was nowhere near as real as the one she'd just given him.

"Thank you," she said softly, turning the pages to find the article.

"On page 56 they mention the 'healthy relations with the FBI' that you've helped to build," he said proudly, "and I'm pretty sure you can see my elbow in one of the candid shots."

She laughed, but turned to the page anyway, inspecting the picture he indicated carefully.

"As I recall, you were standing quite close to me after your confrontation with the Washington Post's photographer," she commented wryly.

"He was eyeing you like a piece of meat," Booth grumbled.

"I'm not sure what that means, but he was only doing his job," she shook her head.

"Uh huh," Booth wasn't convinced but before he could say anything more, his stomach growled loudly. "That was my gut saying it's time to eat. You ready to go?"

"Yes," she nodded, laying the magazine carefully on her coffee table and grabbing her purse and her huge key ring. "Though you realize that was actually a result of peristalsis and not an actual voice?"

"You see it your way, I'll see it mine," he winked.

He managed to get her out of the apartment and into his SUV without any further science lectures that might ruin his appetite. The drive was relatively quiet after she'd asked where he was taking her and he'd refused to answer no matter how she cajoled.

"Well, here we are," he announced. "You stay right there."

"Why?" she demanded, still miffed at him for not revealing where they were going.

"Because this is a real date and I'm gonna open your door for you like a real gentleman," he told her.

"Does a gentleman order his date around?" she scoffed.

"When she's as stubborn as a mule, yes," he hopped out of his door and was opening hers before she could get out. "Coming?"

To his surprise, she took the arm he proffered and let him help her out and shut the door behind her.

"I'm not being a very congenial date, am I?" she looked up at him, eyes vulnerable.

"You're being you," he smiled reassuringly, "and I'm being me. I wouldn't want it any different."

Without stopping to weigh the pros and cons he cupped her face in his hand and kissed her. It took only a fraction of a second for her to respond, tugging on his lips as he tugged hers.

"Do you always kiss your dates _before_ you enter the restaurant?" she teased.

"Only the special ones," he winked and took her hand.

She glanced down at their joined hands and smiled, moving her body closer to his as they turned toward the building. He matched his stride with hers and together they went inside.

"'Thyme To Eat,'" she said, reading the peeling letters off of the door before cocking her head up at him. "Just how many out-of-the-way dining establishments are you familiar with in DC?"

He was about to answer when a man materialized from the back room.

"Sarge!" the man engulfed Booth's hand with his beefy one.

"Coop!" Booth returned the enthusiastic greeting. The two men pounded each other several times on the back before Booth turned back to Brennan, "Bones, this is a buddy of mine from my Army days, Danny Cooper; Coop, this is Dr.-"

"Temperance Brennan," Coop finished, shaking her hand with a warm smile and flicking his gaze up at Booth. "You weren't kidding, Sarge."

"About what?" Brennan asked immediately.

"Hey," Booth slapped his hands together and flung his arm around his date to distract her, "what's a guy gotta do around her to get a decent meal around here?"

The bigger man let out a belly laugh, "You two make yourselves comfortable and I'll see what I can do about that."

There were a few other people scattered throughout the small dining area but Booth steered her around the room to a corner booth tucked away from everyone else, enjoying the fact that he didn't have to sit across from her like they did at the diner.

"What exactly do you tell people about me, because including your grandfather, Cooper is the second person to make that same comment recently?" her voice was low, but her look told him she wouldn't let him put her off much longer.

"What can I get y'all to drink?" their waitress asked, snapping her gum.

"Two hot chocolates," Booth answered confidently, then to Bones, "The hot chocolate's the best here!"

The girl nodded and left. Brennan looked at Booth pointedly.

"Okay, so _maybe_ I tell other people- really close friends or family- that I happen to think you're," he searched for a word that wouldn't get him instantly castrated, "pretty."

"Pretty what?" a sculpted eyebrow rose like she _knew_ what he was talking about.

"Hot," he muttered, feeling the heat rise in his cheeks.

"I presume you mean that in a metaphoric sense as my body temperature is well-regulated?"

"Yeah," he nodded.

The waitress dropped off their drinks and scurried back to the kitchen.

"A toast," Booth proposed, lifting his mug, "to first dates and the scarlet thread that led us here."

She tapped her mug against his but looked at him sideways as they sipped the hot liquid, "Scarlet thread?"

"Yeah Bones, you know, from Sherlock Holmes," he closed his eyes and recited. "'There's the scarlet thread of murder running through the colorless skein of life, and our duty is to unravel it, and isolate it, and expose every inch it.'"

"You're familiar with the works of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle?" she looked pleasantly surprised.

He shrugged, "First guy I worked for in the Bureau was a Holmes nut so I did my homework. Didn't realize how much of a squint Holmes was until I met you guys."

For the next several minutes they talked easily about the rudimentary forensic sciences applied by the fictional detective and their favorite Holmes stories, as well as the effect that Doyle's works had had on the real-life detectives of the time. Eventually, the conversation shifted to their own work, until they were cut short by the arrival of the meal.

Cooper had, indeed, been hard at work in the kitchen, but came out to personally set the delectable spread of fruits, pancakes, waffles, eggs, and other breakfast foods in front of them, along with a steaming carafe of dark roast coffee.

"This is delicious," Brennan commented to the waitress when she stopped to check on them.

"Best breakfast in DC," Booth told her.

"I must say," Brennan's lips quirked, "despite your fondness for restaurants with an aversion to menus, the quality of the food in both instances is exceptional."

"Coop and Sid have a way with food," he returned the smile, then grew serious. "Thanks for coming here with me this morning, Bones. Wouldn't have blamed you if you didn't."

"Why haven't you asked me out previously?" she asked, nursing her coffee. "I mean, I'm familiar with our standard response but it's evident from this morning that you harbor feelings beyond that of mere friendship for me."

"I think I asked myself that a million times after we got off the phone last night," he sighed heavily.

"And did you procure an answer from yourself?"

"Sort of," he offered a weak smile, threading his fingers with hers and idly stroking her thumb as he talked. "I've always had a thing for you, Bones, in one way or another. Don't get me wrong," he smirked, "you drove me nuts for the longest time, but I always admired the way you did things; you didn't back down for anything or anybody if they got in the way of the truth and I respected that."

"You don't either," she affirmed, "it's one of the reasons we work so well together."

"Yup," he bobbed his head, "and somewhere along the way I went from wanting to throttle you to wanting to kiss you."

"So why didn't you?" she prodded gently when he paused for a long moment.

"At first it was because I didn't want to care that much about somebody," he held out a hand to stay her comments. "I knew from the minute I heard your groggy voice telling me what had happened to you in New Orleans that I'd do just about anything for you and the closer we got, the heavier that burden became because I didn't- I couldn't- lose you. So I kept stuffing my feelings down and convincing myself that we were just partners and that as long as I kept you safe, we'd be okay.

"That worked until The Checker Box," he blew out a long breath and slowly raised his eyes to meet hers. "I'm sorry I never asked you about that, Bones. You seemed so cool and matter of fact about it, not to mention you were mad as hell at me for not vetting you, and to be honest a part of me didn't want to know."

"Why not?" the question was so soft he barely heard it.

"Because it meant facing my feelings too," he shook his head and smiled sadly. "Look at us, Bones, we're two totally different people and really, we shouldn't work well together, but we do and it's great and I love it. But sometimes I wonder if you're going to wake up one morning and realize that you don't need me anymore," he reached out, tracing her face with the slightest brush of his callused fingertips.

"You've come so far from where you started, Bones," his voice swelled with pride. "Yeah, you've still got that incredible brain that works through things out so fast it makes my head hurt sometimes, but you've also figured out how to let people see your heart and you let them get close too, instead of being so guarded all of the time.

"My entire life, I've been rejected by people who were supposed to love me," a twinge of bitterness and hurt laced his voice. "By my dad; by Rebecca; even Jared resents me being in his life most of the time."

"You didn't want me to reject you as a romantic interest," she followed his line of reasoning, "so you protected yourself and kept the relationship as platonic as possible."

"Yeah, that whole argument imploded thanks to the coma dream. It gave me a taste of how really amazing things could be between us and how badly I wanted that life," he gave her a lopsided grin. "So I guess I should thank you for that."

She ducked her head to hide the blush.

"One of these days I _am_ going to grill you about that," Booth cleared his throat and stretched theatrically, "but right now we've got a day full of shopping and cooking ahead of us."

They bickered briefly over the check, but were interrupted by Cooper, who insisted that the meal was on him. Booth protested lightly, but gave in and thanked his old friend, promising that he wouldn't stay away so long next time.

"Look at that, Bones," he said when they emerged from the restaurant.

"What?" she looked confused.

"We went out on a date and the world's still turning," he smiled.

"So it is," she returned the smile.

"We should do it again sometime."

"Booth," she laughed, "we're planning on spending the vast majority of the afternoon and the evening together."

"I meant go on a date, Bones," he said.

"I think I'd like that," she linked her arm with his and regarded him seriously. "Are we going to inform our friends and family about the change in our relationship status?"

"Good question," he pursed his lips, "especially since they'll all be on hand tonight. What do you think?"

"I think," she stopped outside the passenger door and took a step closer to him, their lips only inches apart, "that this paradigm shift is ours, and what's ours…" she trailed off.

"That's between us," he finished, resting his forehead against hers.

* * *

**Only one chapter left. Will anybody figure their secret out?**

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**Gum :)**


	4. The Beginning Part A

**Okay, this is the first half of the end. I keep hitting RL delays so you get half now and half at a point to be determined later.**

**Thnx**

**Gum**

* * *

_**The Beginning (Part A)**_

The world around them did indeed keep on turning to their surprise and in much the same way that it always had. They still debated the existence of Booth's "invisible friend" while discussing the origins of Thanksgiving, Booth still didn't see the point in spending and arm and a leg on food just because the label said it was organic, and Brennan still refused to try a bite of apple pie when they stopped at the diner for a quick lunch.

It was the moments in between- the long looks that conveyed feelings without words, the hands that sought each other out of their own accord- where things began shifting more dramatically. He was amused to find he could curtail any lengthy lecture or argument with a good, solid kiss and she was secretly thrilled that his hesitance to discuss sex had dissipated; though apparently masturbation was still an uncomfortable topic for him and according to him, physical intimacy was not something to be rushed.

"I want to get this right," he said as they sat down to rest on his couch after unloading all of their groceries from the SUV.

"Right?" she met his gaze questioningly.

"Yeah," he nodded, giving her a lopsided grin, putting his finger on her lips to stem any interruption. "This _thing_ between us goes way beyond sex, Bones."

"Is this part of your 'making love' theory?" she leaned her head on his shoulder.

"Sort of, but it involves more than that too. Don't get me wrong, Bones, I'm _very_ much looking forward to the physical side of things," he stroked her hair and pulled her closer for effect, "but you and I are worth way more than just a romp in the sack."

"It's not as if we're complete strangers, Booth," she scoffed, not quite following his reasoning.

"Nope, we're not," he agreed. "We're friends- best friends even- but like you pointed out last night, there's a huge part of our relationship that we've swept under the carpet the last few years and we need to honor that."

"How long are you suggesting we abstain?" she tried to remember the last time the sex was NOT almost an instant factor in any of her previous relationships and failed.

"No dates, Bones," he shook his head, "no pressure one way or the other. Let's just let this thing unfold naturally, okay?"

"In a 'natural' setting, we would have already slept together," she said succinctly.

"Bones, have you ever dated a close friend before?" he asked.

She shook her head.

"Me neither," he chuckled softly, "but do you realize that you know more about me now than most of my girlfriends knew when we broke up? I don't know about you, but there's a part of me that's intimidated by that fact."

"You know me better than anyone," Brennan realized, taking a moment to process that thought. "Yes, I see how that could be intimidating."

"It could also be great." He halted his thought and pulled her up to meet her eyes. "Bones you know that once we cross that line, there's no going back?"

"To being just partners?" she asked innocently.

"To being 'just' anything," his face was stoic. "Do you know what I'm saying?"

"That once we copu-make love," she corrected herself, "we will be in a monogamous, romantic relationship. You want a long-term relationship."

"Temperance," he traced her jaw line tenderly, "I want to be the first and last man to ever make love to you."

She nodded. Given Booth's traditional values, she had come to reason that he would expect as much; though the thought still seemed a bit daunting to her. On the one hand, past experience had taught her that one can never predict the future; but on the other she knew that of all people, Booth was the only person to regain her full trust after her parents' abandonment.

From where Booth sat he wasn't sure if she was processing what he said or withdrawing on him. He wished that he didn't have to broach that topic with her yet, but she'd brought it up and he needed her to know what the stakes were for him. The last thing he needed was to get in over his head and have her cry "biological urges" on him. It would kill him more than he'd care to admit.

"I should go back to my apartment now," Brennan broke the silence, standing to her feet. "Wouldn't want you Booth boys to go without your mac 'n' cheese."

"Okay," Booth took it in stride, inwardly cursing himself for scaring her off. "Lemme get my keys."

"I'll just call a cab," she insisted, not wanting to put him out. "The turkey's in and you wouldn't want to have to buy _another_ range."

She made the brief call to the cab company and began gathering her things, the shift in his mood not escaping her, though what caused it had. With a bag full of groceries she stood awkwardly at his front door, wondering what the appropriate thing to do was. He made no move toward her, but seemed to be regarding her very closely.

"Thank you for breakfast," she smiled.

"Any time," he smiled back, but it didn't reach all the way to his eyes.

On the street below a cab honked.

"I'd better go," she said.

"See ya soon," he replied automatically, opening the door for her.

And she left.


	5. The Beginning Part B

The Beginning (Part B)

Life rarely ever plays out in the way we envision it; especially when it comes to matters of the heart, because there is one factor we always overlook: the human factor. To his utter astonishment, Booth had gone from starting to believe that Bones and he had started an amazing relationship to feeling like his heart had been stomped on and marked "Return to Sender." He tried not to think about it too much, but as the day wore on- and especially when he went to pick up Parker and Pops who both asked about her- he had to admit that it hurt.

The one shred of hope that he clung to was that she'd gone home to make mac and cheese so she'd be coming back. Sure enough, at six o'clock sharp, she led the parade of guests into his apartment for dinner. Food was laid out on the table that Parker had painstakingly set that afternoon and the kid was in seventh heaven when they all complimented him on the hand-written place cards he'd made in school.

Booth's hurt and confusion softened when she'd thanked Parker with a hug, not once commenting that he had placed "Dr. Bones" between himself and his dad. It gave Booth pause to think, though, when he realized how easily she was compartmentalizing her own emotions and how skillfully she pretended that nothing was wrong between the two of them. For his own part, he was his normal cheerful and friendly self on the outside, while inside he was wondering if he'd finally pushed her too far. He was fairly sure too that he hadn't been this uncomfortable in his own skin since Rebecca had dragged him home with her to tell her parents that she was pregnant.

As he waited on the turkey in the kitchen her laughter filtered back to him above Cam and Hodgins yelling at the football game, reminding him of all the laughs they'd shared and the topics they'd discussed while eating everything from beer to banana splits in this room. How stupid had he been not to realize that the smartest woman he knew had been filing away every word he had spoken? That when she had nursed his scotch bottle on the same couch where she now sat, surrounded by their makeshift family, she'd been feeling him out; not looking for his advice? And how dumb had he been to push her just when things were starting to gel for the first time in five years?

As the night wore on, he realized just how _right_ she felt beside him and how _wrong_ it felt knowing that if it weren't for the company, she might not be there at all. He also realized that Max and Pops- the two men who would definitely kick his arse if they knew how dense he'd been- were getting along well; too well, in fact. Pops opened the meal with a short prayer, taking Booth back to his boyhood days. Afterwards, Booth gave a brief toast about being thankful for friends and family and Max threw in an extra toast to families past, present, and future and Pops seconded the motion.

Bones glared daggers at Max, but turned and covertly rolled her eyes at Booth.

"Dr. Bones," Parker tapped her arm, diverting her attention, "what's that weird looking turkey you brought?"

She flipped immediately into teacher mode, "That, Parker, is a vegetarian alternative to turkey called 'tofurkey' and consists mainly of tofu."

At the word, "tofurkey," though, the little boy began to giggle.

"That's a funny name," he told her.

"It's a logical combination of the words 'turkey' and tofu,'" she explained.

Parker accepted that and dug back into his food, though he turned down Bones' offer to try a bite of tofurkey. Angela ate some, though, and seemed just as happy as Bones that there was a meat alternative. Conversation around the table flowed easily, emphasizing how much of a family the squints and Booth had become over the years.

When the desserts were pulled out, Bones lived up to her promise and took the small slice of pumpkin pie- drowned in Cool Whip- that Parker got for her. Booth couldn't resist teasing her about ruining her reputation and she stuck her tongue out at him good-naturedly before digging in.

At the end of the night, Booth collapsed back on one of his kitchen stools, thankful for once that Rebecca had insisted on picking Parker up and that Max had offered to drive Pops back to Willow River. Cam, Angela, and Bones had supervised the clean-up effort after dinner, and Hodgins and Russ had helped him tear down the large, hand-crafted table that Sully had made for him and put it back in storage. One by one the guests had trickled out, until only Bones remained.

He could hear her out in the living room running a vacuum cleaner. Eventually, she appeared in the kitchen doorway, wisps escaping from her once-elaborate hairdo but a wide smile on her face. Without hesitation she crossed the kitchen, caught his face in her hands, and proceeded to kiss him with reckless abandon.

Shock ran up every nerve ending and his body reacted before his brain could register what he was doing. A weight landed squarely on his lap as she hoisted herself up on to him, wrapping her arms around his neck as the kiss deepened. His hands spanned her back, roving up and down and itching to move to the front as well.

"Um, Bones," he managed when they broke for air, "not that I'm complaining too loudly but…what are you doing?"

"The guests are gone," she hitched a shoulder, bringing her hand down to smooth out his rumpled dress shirt, "therefore the need for subterfuge is as well."

"Subterfuge?" his brain was whirling to keep up with hers and he stopped her from picking up where they'd left off.

"Yes," she gave him a confused look. "What's ours stays between us; isn't that what we agreed upon this morning?"

He flashed back to breakfast, nodding while he mentally reviewed the night's events.

"So you were just…" he trailed off, still sorting through things.

"Just what?" she asked, curious.

"This afternoon you left here like a bat outta hell," he accused, facing her.

"I left to make my part of the meal," she answered slowly.

"Right after I'd finished spilling my guts about how serious this thing with us is to me," he pointed out. "Convenient timing, there, Bones."

"It was convenient," she nodded, missing his point, "time was beginning to run short and I still need to prepare the food and dress appropriately for the evening."

"You wouldn't even let me take you home," he countered. "You called a cab!"

"It was the most practical mode of transportation given I had no car of my own and you were cooking the turkey," if she hadn't been upset with him before she was quickly getting there now and she abandoned his lap, arms crossing her chest defensively as she stood in front of him.

Seeing her get defensive raised his hackles, "Don't try and deny it, Bones, you heard what I had to say and you ran; maybe not to Guatemala this time, but you ran."

She frowned at that, uncrossing her arms and moving to the empty stool across from him, brow furrowed in thought.

"That," she said after a few long moments, "would be a logical given my past actions, however, I can assure you that your conclusion is incorrect."

"It is?"

Her head bobbed up and down earnestly and her mouth opened, then closed as she hopped off the stool.

"Come on," she beckoned, holding out her hand to him.

"Where?" he asked warily.

"To the living room," she explained as he got down and took her hand. "It could take a while to resolve this misunderstanding and these chairs are not conducive to long conversations for your back."

Weaving her fingers with his she gently tugged him through his apartment until they were sitting on the couch.

"Now," she brushed her hair back with one hand and became serious, "ask me about my actions following your surgery. This-" she hesitated for a fraction of a second before plowing ahead. "As I said yesterday, there are topics we deliberately avoid and obviously we have with this one, so go ahead."

He wondered briefly how they'd jumped from talking about what happened this afternoon to the whole coma fiasco but she was right about him having questions and who knew if she'd ever give him that chance again.

Searching her face to make sure she knew what she was asking for he began slowly, picking up steam as he went. "Why, Bones? Why did you leave once I woke up? Why didn't anyone- especially _me_- hear from you for six weeks? Did I mean that little to you?"

She flinched a little, but held her gaze steady and waited to make sure he had finished for the time being before gripping his hand with both of hers and answering.

"I was in the operating room with you just as you requested," she lifted a hand to where his scar lay hidden by his hair. "I listened to the surgical saw cut into your skull; watched on the monitor as they excised the tumor and eventually closed the area back up as you lay there, unmoving through it all. The doctors allowed me to sit in the recovery room with you, holding your hand even though there was no chance that you would regain consciousness for some time."

Her narrative halted as she struggled to control her emotions, hand desperately wiping away the tears forming in her eyes.

"Hey," he said softly, gathering her into his embrace, "it's okay. You don't have to explain any more."

"I do," she insisted, pulling back slightly, resuming her side of the story. "For the first several hours, I was relieved. Dr. Jursik believed that the surgery had been an overwhelming success and no malignancy was found. When the time came and passed for you to wake up and you didn't, however, my concern elevated." She smirked, "I believe I offended more than one nurse on your ward with my insistence that you be seen by a doctor and I was forceful with the doctors as well."

"Of course you were," he teased softly. "They didn't stand a chance against you."

"I was frightened," she said bluntly. "Less than a year ago I had barely managed to maintain my emotional equilibrium when coping with your supposed death and while every test they ran said that you should be fine, you were not and you slipped into a coma. What I did not anticipate was how confused you would be when you finally emerged and how that would affect me. It was as if…"

She struggled for words and he rescued her, "I was there, but I wasn't."

"The reality that you recalled was so similar to my book it was striking, though not fully surprising given scientific research in that field; however, you were rather insistent that I was your wife rather than your partner," she smiled sadly.

"Even now," he admitted, "I can remember how real it felt."

"Coping with change has never been my forte," she said ruefully, "and this was a rather large shift. You had emotionally crossed every boundary that you'd laid out and the intimate way that you interacted with me was disconcerting. That discomfort was only exacerbated when our co-workers became aware of the situation and reacted not with the concern I had, but with barely veiled amusement; as if the fact that you had forgotten everything about the past five years and saw me rather as your wife and business partner was humorous."

"So you left to get away from them," he said gently, understanding now what it looked like from her side.

"Angela especially," she nodded, "though I left for your benefit as well. I thought perhaps you could regain your sense of what was true and what was imagined if I was not present to confuse the issue. You would be forced to recognize that we were not married. The doctors _assured_ me that you would recover quickly and that there was nothing to be concerned about. I was stunned to find you had only just been restored to active duty upon my arrival home."

"Guess I'm a slow learner," he gave her half a smile. "I missed you, though, Bones."

"And I you," she acknowledged. "Though it forced me to admit how truly emotionally invested in you and your well-being I have become. I've been well aware of my emotions concerning you for quite some time now; thus my reasoning for exploring certain options in my book."

"But you thought I wasn't interested in you that way?"

She shrugged, "You are quick to tell others that we are 'just partners,' you were quite adamant that relationships could not exist between people in high-risk positions such as we hold, and you told me you loved me in a professional capacity; that seemed clear enough."

"What about the stuff I told you this afternoon?" he had to know.

"It was no less than I would have expected," she smiled. "It's not as if you haven't made your position on lifelong monogamy within the context of marriage well-known over the past five years. I might not have associated it with the sexual component of the relationship but that does not mean I wasn't expecting a similar speech as some point."

"And you're okay with that?" he asked. "No arguments about how sex is all about biological urges and that marriage is some antiquated ritual?"

"A component of sexual intercourse _is_ biological," she insisted, "though I am very intrigued to see what impact a deep emotional connection has on the experience. And the institute of marriage _is_ very old, however, my views on the subject have been modified and my love for you is such that I am willing to forego any remaining concerns."

"Whoa! Wait! What did you say?" he felt a goofy grin growing.

"I said I am willing to for-"

"No, no," he interrupted, "Before that."

A grin spread across her face now and color crept up her cheeks as she repeated softly, "I love you, Booth and have for quite some time now."

"I love you too, Bones," he grinned back.

Once again, neither one could be sure who made the first move, but their lips still met in the middle so it didn't matter.

The make-out session was long and tender and followed by a discussion on how well she'd managed to fool everyone including him during dinner. He even managed to charm her into letting him feed her a second piece of pumpkin pie; though halfway through she grabbed the fork and fed him. It was well after midnight before they reluctantly agreed it was time for her to leave. He was surprised, and very pleased, to discover she'd gotten a ride to his place with Max so that Booth could escort her home.

They spent the drive making plans to go out on "Black Friday" – a concept she was unfamiliar with but that she readily agreed to- and bickering about the best malls in DC. When they finally got to her place, he boldly wrapped his arm around her waist, enjoying the feeling of her leaning into him against the cold night air as they walked to the building.

"Just do me one favor," she asked as he stood at her doorway, the taste of her good-bye kiss lingering on his lips.

"Anything," he promised.

"Don't wait five more years to propose."

FIN.

* * *

**Thanks for journeying with me on this one. I think with Goop now out, we've seen how possible it is that Brennan is GG's "one" and that she's starting to put it all out there in hopes that Booth will notice. Meanwhile, Booth's waiting in the wings with hope and patience, so really they're passing like ships in the night.**

**Two telling scenes: Brennan in the diner w/Margret- her marriage views have definitely shifted dramatically!! And Booth in the car, speaking her language to help her through her emotions over the mother's dilema- he SOOO gets Brennan, even when others don't. I was also touched by her inviting Booth for dinner right after Max had told her that being alone for Christmas is tantamount to not being loved- she wants Booth to know he's loved!**

**Ok, 'nough said. Can't wait to hear what you thought of my itty bitty love story. Thanks so much for the reviews and for bearing with me ditching Blue Eyes temporarily.**

**Now, back to that serial killer....**

**Gum :)**


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